Ace Combat Chronicles: The White Triad
by Deruta
Summary: The story of the conflict of the Southern Hemisphere of the Verusean Continent. The story of the White dragon Squadron of the Nisan Air Force.


--Chapter 1--

The hangar was quiet, as usual. Everyone had left on combat sorties, or training duty. But then again, who needed training in the middle of a war? That was a stupid idea; the trainees would get killed in any combat areas they would drift into. And then it would be Command's job to cover it up. Typical routine. War was desperate, but not this desperate. Not even the public could know what was really going on.

Dustin was sitting against a wall in the hangar, the floor was cold and slippery; it was just cleaned up. The wind blew quietly and smoothly through his short cut hair. His F-14D Super Tomcat was in the same spot it always was before battle. Right in the middle. Its white paintjob reflected off the walls beautifully, melding together with the polished chrome. Two other planes, similar in color, but different in design, took places on both sides of the Tomcat. There was one F-14, and an F-15. Two Tomcats, one Eagle. A somewhat nice balance of power. His wing mates were in the lounge, discussing previous events. Sipping nice coffee, listening to soothing tunes. Some things to keep their minds off the war. Smart, yet stupid in the end. Dustin stayed in the hangar, being sure that mechanics fixed his F-14D the way he instructed them to. If they didn't, it wouldn't fly. The mechanics were still working, he guessed. The sounds of wrenches dropping were obvious. As he looked up, he noticed one of them going into the engine.

"No, no! Wrong!" Dustin said as he got up, and reprimanded the mechanic. The engines had been tuned enough for the past week. There was no need for more. Nisanian mechanics seemed to get thicker and thicker in the skull every day. But, who could blame them? This war hit them faster than they could imagine, and they didn't have much time to prepare.

As soon as Dustin confirmed that the repairs on his F-14D were complete, he inspected the fighter plane himself. They didn't scratch the paint. The emergency brake was fine. Engines were wiped clean, landing gears checked out perfectly. All he had to do now was take the plane on a test flight. He had done it plenty times before; but those times were with his wing mates. This time, he would go it alone. He considered himself no longer the baby of the group; needing to be watched over countless times by the higher ups. But this time, he didn't need any of that. He climbed into the cockpit of the fighter, being sure to seal the canopy. He rolled the F-14D down the runway, pre-checking all flight procedures with the Air Control Tower. As soon as he was marked green, he let the afterburners burn, the Super Tomcat taking off into the afternoon sky.

For the most part, everything was working out well. Aerodynamics, telemetry, flight distance, and fuel were a go. Dustin maneuvered the F-14 over to the target range, lining the Vulcan cannon up for a bull's-eye. Diving slowly, Dustin thumbed the firing button, sending bullets speed towards their targets. The flight computer calculated terrain damage, and exact damage to the targets themselves. It read 44 Terrain, and 56 Targets. Not very accurate, he determined. He put the fighter into an Immelman, and then swung around once more, locking the missiles this time. The next bunch of targets were abandoned bunkers; long since left behind during the Circum-Pacific War. As soon as Dustin got a good tone, he let loose his Phoenix Missiles, watching the impacts line up on the ground. He checked the computer once again. 10 Terrain Damage and 90 Target Damage. Perfect. Not as much as he had thought, but well enough.

"Nice one, Delta." The local AWACS, named Hawkeye said over the radio. Dustin smiled. Seemed he was still being watched, even during training. Though, he didn't consider it much of a problem. It was only an AWACS, after all. Not much of a nuisance.

Leveling his plane out, Dustin decided to test the amount of G's the plane could take. Making sure the engines worked fine, he quickly went into a High-G turn, his body pressing tightly against the chair. His eyes soon danced around; that gave him the signal to level out. He quickly ended the turn, seeing that the mainframe of the plane held together. Good enough. Dustin smiled, checking how long the whole test flight took with Hawkeye.

"An estimation of 30 minutes, Commander. 50 minutes less than last time." Hawkeye answered. Dustin sighed. The last time he had done one of these was before the start of the war, when he was just a Lieutenant. Sometimes he wished people hadn't commented on that test flight; it was a poor run that had gone with a slight disaster. Nevertheless, Dustin was proud of this run. While his aim with the guns could use a bit of work, his missile accuracy and G control were perfect. As soon as he was perfectly satisfied, Dustin turned the plane around, and headed back to base.


End file.
